


Baby Teeth

by presidentbees



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Demons, Dental Surgery, Gore, Immortality, Medical, Medical Experimentation, Paralysis, Surgery, Teeth, Torture, can you have consentual torture, surgery without anesthetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presidentbees/pseuds/presidentbees
Summary: The glow of gratification that Cupid felt was quickly overshadowed by her growing feeling or boredom. Without any way to see what was happening, all that she had to focus on was watching the pile of black, bloodied gauze pile up on the floor and listening to the soft‘plink, plink, plink’of teeth landing on Nighty’s tray.“Whht’r yuh doin’?” Cupid tapped her feet against the table, trying to entertain herself.“I’ve finished removing your maxillary teeth — the ones along the top row of your jaw. Did you know that you have more teeth than an average human would? It’s amazing that your jaw can hold all of them. At the moment, I’m looking to see if there’s anything else—”Nightingale broke off, making a noise of delight and digging into her gums with a new fervor. “Cupid! You still have your baby teeth! How impressive!”Cupid and Nightingale belong to(Classydove)





	Baby Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClassyDove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyDove/gifts).



tw: consensual surgery without anesthetics. lowkey demon biology weirdness. inhuman amounts of blood loss. dental surgery / teeth removal. being tied down for surgery. paralyzation.

* * *

Cupid’s legs were the only parts of her body that weren’t secured down by thick, leather straps. Sighing loudly, she kicked her feet in the air, bending them back toward her head so that her toes dangled off of the edge of the steel, examination table, and her legs blocked out the light above her. 

She was boooored. Nighty had said he was going to be “right back”, but that had been forever ago, and Cupid was tired of being patient. She could wait — she could wait for ages if Nighty needed her to! — but what was the point of waiting and being still if nobody was going to tell her that she was being good?

The leather band around her chest complained loudly as Cupid’s back lifted off of the table, she quickly dropped herself back down. She could break the restraints easily if she wanted. She could hop off the table and go find Nighty and ask him what was taking him so long, but she wanted to make Nighty proud of her too — which meant waiting. 

Cycling her legs in the air, Cupid was trying to entertain herself when there was the sound of rolling metal as Nighty appeared by her side with his tray of instruments. Grabbing Cupid by one ankle, he gently pushed down on her legs until she was lying still against the steel table again. 

“Down, Cupid. There you go.” His face was blacked out in shadows as he eclipsed the lights above above her. The only thing visible were his eyes, which shone brightly. “Are you ready to play another game?” 

“Yes! Yes!” She screeched eagerly, kicking her heels against the steel table — she was desperate for something to finally happen. “Yes! What are we doing?” 

“If I tell you before we start then it would ruin the best parts. You’ll see as we go.” He smiled reassuringly as he reached down to fasten another leather band around Cupid’s neck. “Now, these restraints are only to ensure that you don’t try moving at an inopportune time. I don’t want you to become excited and get up while I’m making a delicate cut.” 

Cupid tried to test her limits and raise her head, but Nighty put a firm hand against her forehead and pushed back her down. “It’s all a part of the game, dear! I only have one rule for you. It’s very simple to follow — are you ready to hear it?” 

Cupid nodded, and Nightingale moved his hand from her forehead to run through her hair — the gesture was almost loving. 

“Good girl,” he said approvingly as Cupid leaned into the touch. “My only rule is that you don’t move your head while I’m working. Can you do that?” 

Cupid was about to nod again, but stopped herself as she remembered her new order. “Will this hurt?”

Nightingale’s face softened into a look of adoration. “Don’t be silly, dear. We’re demons. Nothing ever hurts to us.” 

“Okay!” Cupid settled back against the steel table. She was just happy that Nighty was paying attention to her again. As fun as having new people in the circus was — and it was fun! Cupid loved meeting the new people and being Nighty’s assistant — she was always eagerly awaiting when Nighty’s attention would be solely on her again. 

“Can I help? Can I hold something?” 

“No, because you’re already helping me by being such a good girl.” Nighty booped Cupid’s nose with one finger and she giggled. “Now! Turn your head toward me — that’s right — and let me find my—”

“Ooh, what are those?” With her head to the side, Cupid was almost at eye-level with the table of instruments that Nighty had wheeled over. She recognized the most popular ones — a set of scalpels, the bonesaw, pliers, and so on — but there were new instruments laid out as well. 

Nightingale broke his sentence off, looking to see what Cupid was talking about. “Which one?” 

“The ones with the hooks!” 

Nightingale’s eyes lit up with delight, and he gently picked one up for Cupid to see — “You noticed! What an excellent question!” 

They were evidently handmade instruments — each one had a wooden grip, with two sides that served different functions. On one end, there was a wicked looking fishing hook, which curved sharply into a barb that was meant to dig into the flesh and hold it in place. On the other, it was fixed with a sharp, thin pick which was bent at the end — evidently for scraping or stabbing at things. 

“This is a fisher’s hooks. It’s meant for, well, fishing.” Nighty pointed toward the hooked end. “You know how these work, correct?” 

Cupid opened her mouth to answer, and Nightingale took the opportunity to hook one thumb in Cupid’s cheek. Holding it open, he carefully threaded the hook through inside of her cheek until it emerged through the other side with a slight ‘pop’. 

“When a fisherman is fishing, he baits one end with something that a fish finds delicious — most commonly, a piece of rancid meat that is thick enough to hide the hook inside.” Nightingale’s tone was even and amicable as he worked his hand inside of Cupid’s mouth. There was another feeling of pressure as he slipped a second hook through her cheek. 

“When a fish tries to swallow its treat, the hook is revealed and becomes lodged in the mouth or throat. Naturally, this will set off the fish’s survival instincts; it will fight to free itself and then—” Nightingale wiggled the second hook, testing its strength before sharply yanking on it so that the barb dug deep into Cupid’s cheek, firmly anchoring it in place. “It’s caught.”

Nightingale had chosen these hooks for their barbs. The constant issue that he had been faced with while experimenting was outpacing his own regeneration. Using curved suture needles, it was only a matter of time before the wound would begin to heal and push the needle out of his skin. 

With barbed fishing hooks, however, he had remarkable success — as the hook was pushed from his skin, the barb would be forced to dig in deeper, causing the wound to remain open in order to not inflict unnecessary damage. The result was an increase in time for him to experiment, at the expense of feeling marginally more tired the next day. 

Cupid squirmed slightly, but Nighty pressed a firm hand against the side of her chin to stop her from moving before giving her a quick pat. “Good work, dear. Remember to not move your head.” 

Reaching back to his table, Cupid saw the flash of metal as Nightingale picked up another instrument. Cupid tried to talk around the hooks that were contorting her mouth — “Whht’s thht?” 

“Hm? Can’t you see?” Nightingale brought the instrument close to Cupid’s face, allowing her to get a good look at it. “It’s a scalpel. To be exact, it’s the type of scalpel that is used for deep, precise cuts. Do you see the elongated blade? How it’s larger than the others? It was specifically designed so that a surgeon can cut through thick layers of tissue.” 

As he talked, Nightingale pinched the side of Cupid’s upper lip, pulling it taunt as he carefully drew the scalpel in a line across her upper jaw. Cupid could feel the blade’s tip scraping across the top of her teeth, sending tickling vibrations up her jaw.

He stopped the incision underneath her cheekbone, taking a moment to hum and consider his work before copying the movement along the bottom of her jaw. Cupid could feel Nighty pulling at her skin, leveraging the hooks until the square section of her cheek lifted away with a wet, tearing noise. Curiously, Cupid poked her tongue outside of the new gap, trying to feel the edges of her extended mouth. 

Black blood slowly oozed from the cuts, coating Cupid’s tongue and dripping down into her mouth. Nightingale was quick to clean the edges with a clean gauze pad. 

He poked Cupid’s tongue back into her mouth with a soft chuckle. “Cupid, deary, I enjoy hearing your feedback while I work. I would hate to accidentally cut off your tongue if it got in the way.” 

Reaching back to his table, Nighty tossed the bloody gauze to the side as he surveyed his tray of instruments. There were so many _new_ toys for him to play with — he almost didn’t know where to start. 

Nightingale picked up one of the scalpels — it was always best to start simply and gradually increase the intensity — and turning back to his subject, he found that Cupid was back to worrying at the hole in her cheek again. She waved her tongue in the air, trying to see how far up her face she could lick now that she didn’t have the right side of her cheek in the way. 

“Shoo. Out of the way. I warned you.” Nightingale lightly stabbed Cupid’s tongue with the blade until she brought it back into her mouth, letting it sink underneath the layer of blood that’d pooled there with a soft _‘plop’_. 

Nightingale began to make the preliminary cuts that he needed — scoring the skin between each of Cupids teeth shallow enough that they weren’t overwhelmingly bloody, but still deep enough that the superficial wounds wouldn’t begin to heal immediately. Then, reaching back for his tray, he used a pair of pliers to begin experimentally wiggling each tooth. 

“Oh, wonderful,” Nightingale said reverently, and Cupid felt herself glow with pride. “You have excellent teeth, Cupid. Healthy gums, no rot or other black spots, and hardly any gapping between the teeth. Strong roots as well. Did you know that you have an extra set of canines? They’re very impressive.” 

He continued to chatter to himself, dragging the scalpel along the outline of Cupid’s canines until the gums peeled back and he was able to begin cutting away at the roots. Bracing one hand against Cupid’s cheek — “Pardon me, dear.” — Nightingale yanked downwards with the pliers, ripping the tooth from its socket. 

Blood immediately began to dribble from the new hole in Cupid’s gums, and Nightingale was quick to block it with gauze before dropping the tooth onto his tray with a light ‘plink’. 

“You’re being very well behaved,” Nightingale said as he worked another tooth loose with a satisfying sucking noise. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you, dear. You’re such a good help.” 

The glow of gratification that Cupid felt was quickly overshadowed by her growing feeling or boredom. Without any way to see what was happening, all that she had to focus on was watching the pile of black, bloodied gauze pile up on the floor and listening to the soft _‘plink, plink, plink’_ of teeth landing on Nighty’s tray.

“Whht’r yuh doin’?” Cupid tapped her feet against the table, trying to entertain herself. 

“I’ve finished removing your maxillary teeth — the ones along the top row of your jaw. Did you know that you have more teeth than an average human would? It’s amazing that your jaw can hold all of them. At the moment, I’m looking to see if there’s anything else—” 

Nightingale broke off, making a noise of delight and digging into her gums with a new fervor. “Cupid! You still have your baby teeth! How impressive!”

There was a fleshy rip as the final ligaments that holding Cupid’s tooth in place were torn away. A moment later, Nighty was pushing back Cupid’s bangs so that she could see. His expression was that of an individual wrapped in delirium. Nightingale’s eyes were wide and shining, and he held Cupid’s tooth in his bare hand like it was a precious stone. 

“This is one of your adult teeth. For humans, they start to lose their teeth at around age 6, when their adult teeth push through.” Nighty hummed, turning the tooth over in his hands. “I wonder if they will grow back the same? If removing your ‘baby teeth’ from your jaw would mimic the natural cycle of a juvenile human and cause you to only grow one set in the future?” 

Cupid slurred something around a mouthful of blood, causing Nighty to look up. “Hm? What was that?” 

“I whnt t’see muh othhr thhth” Cupid repeated. She tried to lift her head to see the surgical table, but Nighty firmly pushed her back down. 

“No,” commanded Nightingale. He roughly pinched her tongue between two fingers as his demeanor seemed to flip, going from adoration to annoyance. “Remember my only rule? No moving your head.” 

Cupid twisted her face as much as her restraints allowed in order to glare wordlessly up at Nightly. She didn’t like this game as much as the others — what was the fun if she kept getting shoved back down? 

Without fully thinking it through, Cupid bit down on Nightingale’s hand with her remaining front teeth. She could feel his bones shift and dislocate underneath her jaws as she bit down harder. More blood filled her mouth until it began to overflow and spill down her cheek. 

Pride welled inside of Cupid’s chest as she finally let go of Nighty’s finger. He raised his eyebrows, bewildered, inspecting his broken finger. Confusion and surprise momentarily crossed over his face before being replaced with an expression of adoration. 

“Cupid, sweetheart, I didn’t think I was going to need to do this, but since you’re not following the rules or behaving, you haven’t let me any choice.” 

Nighty looked over his table of instruments, humming as his fingers flitted above the shiny toys. He knew the results that he wanted, but which tool would fit the job best? There were so many options to choose from that it was almost intoxicating. 

His hand landed on one of his new toys. Long, thin, and tapered to a dangerously sharp point on the end, Nightingale had been inspired by the recent popularity in weaponized hat pins that women were wearing. Nightingale had originally planned on using the instrument to penetrate a patient’s prefrontal through the eye socket, but he would save that for another time.

Brushing Cupid’s hair away from the back of her neck, Nightingale ran his fingers over the pronounced bones of her spine and considered where to make the insertion.

If he aimed too far to the left, he would miss the nerves necessary to paralyze her head. If he aimed too far to the right, he’d sever one of the arteries in her neck — not that he feared Cupid bleeding out, but the amount of time that it would take for her to recover from losing so much blood would be substantial. 

—at this point, though, couldn’t he afford it? What would another day of recovery cost them? He could close the circus for one day, maybe two, three at the absolute most. He could blame it on something out of their control — maybe say that his acrobat had twisted her ankle. 

‘I’ve already gone too far,’ Nightingale privately mused to himself as he lined the skewer up with the side of Cupid’s spine. _‘I was momentarily lost in the thrill, but look where we are now — so much progress.’_

Slowly, Nightingale began to insert the skewer into Cupid’s neck. “You’re going to feel a little bit of pressure at first—”

Cupid felt something cold slide into place in the back of her neck. It didn’t hurt as much as it tickled uncomfortably as it passed through the muscles in her neck. before violently lodging itself between the vertebrae in her neck. 

Nightingale made a surprised noise — “Oh! I’m too centered.” — as he removed the pin, trying again. This time, the instrument slid in more easily. Gliding past Cupid’s bones to emerge underneath her jaw, forcing it upwards at an angle as the muscles in her body locked up. Blood ran from her mouth and neck in thick rivulets, coating the front of her shirt with dark stains. 

Stepping back, Nightingale rested one hand on his cheek admired his handiwork. He was almost tempted to leave Cupid there. The hooks in her cheeks were still holding the flap of her cheek back, and the look that she had in her eyes was ineffable. It was the look of somebody whose trust was slowly being broken by the one person that she had come to adore — and possibly the only person who had shown her adoration in return. 

Internally, Cupid was screaming as she tried to move — to wiggle her toes or move her mouth or to do anything other than watch in silent fear as Nighty loomed over her again. He put one hand on the side of her head, petting her hair soothingly as he procured fresh scalpel from his tray. 

“Cupid, darling, let this be a lesson in why you should listen to me when I give you a rule.” His tone was light, almost loving as he looked down at her. “Now, I want to see if you still have your wisdom teeth as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cupid and Nightingale both belong to Classydove ([Twitter](https://twitter.com/classydove_) // [DA](https://www.deviantart.com/classydove) // [Tumblr](https://classydove.tumblr.com/) // [Artstation](https://t.co/qZc9kNlHD4)) — big thanks to them for letting me write for their ocs! Nighty and Cupid are some of my favorites just because of how well they work off of each other. 
> 
> Ngl this opened me up to realizing that I can't write any gore pieces writing tooth removal because I'll subconsciously clench my teeth while writing — the migraine I got while writing this was _intense_ — and that I really like the aesthetics of immortals performing surgery.

**Author's Note:**

> again like Cupid and Nightingale belong to [(Classydove)](https://www.deviantart.com/classydove_), and again im super thankful that they let me write for their ocs! Cupid and Nightingale are really fun to work with, and I'm always thrilled when I get permission to write about the two of them ~~so here's to hoping i get the courage to do more in the future~~. 
> 
> This was a part of a 48-fic challenge that I wanted to try on myself. I'm really happy with it in the end.


End file.
